Unhealthy Treasure
by Sunburned-Stickperson
Summary: Something's wrong with Altair. Malik consults his closest brothers to figure it out how to fix it.


**YAY! Now with one-hundred percent more rafiqs. XD**

* * *

><p>"My brothers, there is something we must discuss."<p>

Malik sat at the far end of the courtyard in Masyaf. Ghafur and Hakim, the once-rafiqs of Damascus and Acre respectively, were with him. The three were eating a light lunch one of the women had brought them. They had been brought to Masyaf to help with the restoration of order after Al Mualim's fall, and they had become Altair's "second in commands" since they had helped open his eyes on his missions.

"Yes, you have told us that. About Altair, yes?" Ghafur asked. "I do not see anything wrong with him."

Malik frowned. "There is something wrong with him."

"And what is that? His wife?" Hakim murmured.

"Yes."

"Are you jealous he found himself such a wonderful woman?" Ghafur teased.

"There is nothing wrong with her, or their relationship. It is the manner by which he became infatuated with her."

"What? By being seduced by the womanly charms? Most men are susceptible to that, save men like us," Ghafur continued.

Malik's brow knitted together, and a hawk screeched in a nearby tree, its three fledglings hungry. Hakim studied him before saying, "There is something you are leaving out. Speak. Between us, there are no secrets."

Malik looked at him, his gaze cool and calculating.

"You were in a relationship with him."

The one-armed man was surprised, and Ghafur looked even more so. "You must be kidding me!"

"How did you know?"

"He was right? Sodomy is a crime punishable by death!"

Hakim met his gaze with his own serious one. "So speak, what happened to make you worried?"

Ghafur sighed, shaking his head. "These things are going to have us killed."

Malik looked at the pot-maker, who sighed again and waved a hand for him to continue.

"It is not like him. After he obtained the treasure, things were okay, then, he just dropped me as if we had never even had something together. I became just another face in the crowd to him."

"Are you sure someone didn't find out, and he—"

"I have spies crawling among our ranks, listening, watching for traitors and anything of the nature. I have received no word."

Hakim hummed, folding his hands in his lap as one of the women brought them more water. They nodded as she refilled their glasses and left.

"It was shortly after that he became obsessed with the treasure. There is something wrong."

Ghafur scratched his chin. "Now that you mention it, those drawings he's been making have been rather eerie. I saw him carving into my desk a few days ago, and when I asked what he was doing, he calmly explained the drawing—not why he was carving into my desk, which he avoided at all costs."

Silence fell over the three men for a while as they sat there. Malik watched the other two think his accusation over. Eventually, Hakim looked at him.

"This is serious then, how intimate of a relationship were you in?"

His silence said everything.

"I see. Then you would know him best of all."

"I was his best friend before Solomon's Temple."

"Then you above all should know how he works."

"The problem resides as follows: if we are to correct Altair and decide to cure him, undoubtedly, it would tear him and Maria apart, and wreck the family he has."

"His children would suffer most, indeed," Ghafur said. "I did not think you were so caring toward novices."

Malik's lips twitched into a smile briefly. "If I let them know, they will twist my remaining arm."

Ghafur laughed heartily, and he got a chuckle from Hakim.

"Then what do you propose we do?"

"That is why I consulted you."

Silence fell over them again. As the hours progressed, few thoughts came to them, most dismissed. As night fell, Malik sighed.

"Do you see why this is a problem? As pained as I am about Altair dropping me, if I believed that it was by his own free will that he 'fell in love' with Maria, I would be complacent enough to let him do as he wishes."

"You do not act pained," Hakim said.

"As assassins, we wear many masks."

"He speaks truth. Can you not hear it in his voice? This is probably more open than he would like to be," Ghafur said.

"No, I would cry right now if I could. I have, indeed, fallen love with him almost as much as my brother, but I raged and screamed then. When I lost Kadar, Ilearned the difference between 'weeping' and 'mourning.'"

"I remember hearing stories from the novices who woke in your bureau late at night," Ghafur said. "And my heart cried for you with every story."

Malik offered a sad smile. "Thank you, brother."

"I am surprised you 'fell in love' with Altair."

"He was not the same man as in Solomon's Temple."

"Indeed," Hakim murmured. "He must have endeared himself to you."

"In an odd sort of way. Our relationship was not as sweet and loving as you might think, given his relationship with Maria."

"Oh?" Ghafur raised an eyebrow teasingly.

"I would imagine it was focused more on rebuilding the trust and lust, being a man myself."

"Now that, I am not so sure of, Hakim," Ghafur jested.

Malik smiled softly and shook his head. Hakim sighed.

"There you are."

They looked to see Altair standing there with a fond smile and a child in his arms.

"I was looking for you."

"Which one of us?"

"All three. I have plans for changes to the novices training."

Malik scowled. "You said that the man I put in charge was doing fine. I think it is okay the way it is."

Altair hummed. "He was good for the way it is now, but the Apple has—"

"Will you ever do away with that piece of shit?" Malik screeched, rising. "Or has it made you forget what you had before?"

Altair frowned. "Quiet. You are waking my kid."

"I won't quiet, Altair! You above all men should know my wrath!" he snarled. "Or are you blind, now, to the pain you are causing me? For it seems that is all you are good for in my life!"

The child looked like he was about to cry. Altair looked genuinely upset. "I am sorr—"

"Save your apologies for a man who will listen—for a man who is more concerned about licking your boots then helping you make wise decisions, which you seem incapacitated to do!"

The boy started crying, and Altair frowned. "Malik, I will see you in my office tomorrow morning."

As the Grand Master walked off, he shouted. "You cannot see anything staring at the Apple!"

Malik snarled as he sat back down. Ghafur looked concerned. Hakim was watching Altair walk off.

"Any other time he would've reprimanded you for waking his child right here."

Malik sagged. "I wish that he would. Perhaps it would hurt less."

He felt Ghafur place a hand on his open shoulder. "We will help you, brother."

He leaned against the man, who wrapped him in a hug. "I do not even mind if he never returns to me. I just want to see him back to normal."

"I will admit, the lack of your bickering has made the halls unusually quiet," Hakim said. "I will ponder this situation."

Malik gave a shuddery breath, trying not to cry. It was almost funny how Altair was a constant source of pain in his life.

The next morning, Malik woke the feel of Ghafur gently shaking his shoulder. He grunted and opened his eyes to see Hakim standing behind him.

"Brother, we have solved it."

He sat up, rubbing his eyes before looking at the two of them.

"We will help you lock him in the basement."

Malik raised an eyebrow.

"Think about it," Hakim said as he sat in front of him. "If it is the Apple causing such pain, as you speculated, then we should take the Apple, hide it, and keep it from him."

Malik frowned. "And how will we cover the fact we have the Grand Master locked in the dungeons."

Ghafur smiled, and Malik briefly wondered why he had never seen that mischievous look before. "We will say he has left on a mission to the east, to assassinate a man named Temüjin."

"Why?"

"He is quickly rising to power, controlling much of the land. He thinks another piece of the treasure it at work. We have contacted Temüjin, and he is coming to Masyaf. We will show him the madness of the treasure."

"And if logic fails to reach him?"

"It will work, brother," Ghafur said.

"And so will the lie? I find that hard to believe. What of Maria? The children?"

"We will show Altair to Maria at the peak of his insanity," Hakim said. "Despite her exterior, her kids are most important to her. She will do as she sees fit to care for them."

"What if the treasure has taken over her, as well?"

Ghafur grinned. "Then we lock her up, as well."

Malik blinked, then scowled. "I am beginning to think you are just enjoying locking people in the dungeons."

Ghafur laughed and shrugged. "Perhaps. Now, up with you, to Altair before the others wake—Maria wakes. He has fallen asleep at his desk—now is our time to strike."

Malik did so sleepily, plodding along the quiet halls of Masyaf with his two brothers at his back. Hakim pulled rope from his robes as they walked, and Malik's eyes narrowed when he saw the door. It was now or never. He pushed open the door quietly and slipped in. He could feel Hakim and Ghafur slip around behind Altair as the man stirred.

"Malik?" came the sleepy and slowly reply.

"Yes, you called, Grand Master?" he spat the last two words with such venom that Altair frowned.

"Curb your irritancy. You know why you were called here."

"Yes, to kiss your boots and suck your dick, am I right?"

Altair rose, infuriated, and Malik spat at his feet.

"How dare yo—"

"How dare I? How dare I what, Altair? How dare I refuse to listen to the heretical things that that piece of shit has shown you? Do you even remember what we had before?"

"We were frie—"

"We were lovers. Not friends."

"Do you have a death wish!" Altair growled, and Malik watched with sick satisfaction as Hakim and Ghafur caught him and bound him with little difficulty.

"You are still too arrogant, Altair," Malik said as he paced over to the bound and squirming body. "I had forgiven you after Solomon's Temple because you were a different man, and yet again, before my eyes, you change—thanks to this!"

He picked up the treasure from Altair's desk and shook it in his face.

"This, this is not a piece of Eden. This is a piece of Hell, forged in its flames and sent to destroy us. It is temptation incarnate, and I will dispose of it for you."

"Careful, brother," Hakim said. "Even you are not unsusceptible to its taste."

Malik shook his head slowly as he stuffed it in a pocket. "No, I bit it once, after Kadar had died, and it promised to soothe over the wounds that Altair had caused. It filled them with hate."

"If you have all ready tasted it, perhaps we should dis—"

"No. It looked perfect, seemed perfect, and when I bit into it, it poisoned me. I will not make the same mistake. I fear if I let you take it, that it may give you a perfect taste."

He looked at Altair. "It has weakened you, brother. Do you not remember the days where I would insult you, and you would still be capable of fighting ten guards? To think that a cripple, an old man, and a portly man can take you down is proof alone that you need to get rid of the poison in your veins. Let us take him to the dungeons."

Malik placed a hand on Altair's neck, who snarled around the gag. With one move, the Grand Master crumpled, and they picked him up. They had little trouble wrangling him down there, and two of Malik's spies were standing in the entrance. They nodded as he walked past.

"You told them?"

"They were necessary. We cannot be around him all the time. What are you going to do with that treasure?" Hakim asked.

"I will bury it in the mines of the isle we own. You two will remain here, watch Altair, and wait for Temüjin. Hakim, you forge entries into Altair's journals about Temüjin."

Hakim nodded. "Safety and peace be upon you when you travel, brother."

He shook his head as they chained the still-gagged body to the wall. "There will be none until this deed is over and the curse is lifted."

Ghafur was grinning as he locked the shackles. "I will admit. Never in my life did I think I would be chaining up the leader of our Brotherhood."

Malik smirked. "Kinky, no?"

All three share a deep laugh. As they walked out, Malik made a list of what to take with him, and he called two of his (quietest, he didn't want conversation) spies to come with him. He trip in and of itself was boring, he went to Cyprus, into the deepest of the mines, and buried it with the help of his spies. They boarded the boat and came home. Ghafur was waiting for him.

"My brother! You returned! And safe as well!"

Malik smirked. "Yes, and the treasure is buried once more."

"Good, good!" Ghafur laughed, throwing an arm around his open shoulder as Hakim flanked his other side. The old Damascus rafiq leaned in close. "You should see Altair. He is mad, I tell you. Spit raving mad. Throws himself against the chains in his cell and moans. It is almost heart wrenching."

"And Maria?"

"She believes our lie," Hakim said. "I told her he left her behind to go kill Temüjin because it is far too dangerous with her, and he wants his children to have what he never did."

"He took it straight from the journals," Ghafur said, grinning.

Malik scowled. "How diseased what his mind to write such flowery nonsense? We are assassins for a reason. Families are nice, but…"

"I know—you should see the drawing of Maria!" Ghafur clasped his hands over his heart. "She is lovely. Decorated with flowers and a serious look. Oh, Malik."

"Nonsense," Malik said as they walked past the training ring.

"Brother," Ghafur said as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder once more, "I am glad you opened my eyes."

Malik nodded.

"And Temüjin is here."

"Have you talked to him?"

"He does not believe he will go insane."

"Show him—"

"We wanted to wait for you."

As they entered the fortress, he caught sight of the men Temüjin must have brought with him. They looked like fierce warriors, the kind any man would want if he were invading. They walked to Altair's chambers—separate from the family chambers, since rarely did Altair make it to be—to see a young man sitting there, holding another piece of Eden. He was rolling it around in his hands. A novice sat beside him, looking relatively calm.

When he was noticed, Malik bowed. "Greetings, safety and peace, brother."

The novice translated for them both.

"There will be none if your evidence is as solid as you say that I will lose my mind."

He met the man's intense stare. "I rest assured we can convince you."

"Call me Genghis while I am here. Your brothers have told me of the predicament."

Malik nodded once, somberly. "I am sorry to have pulled you away."

"Do not apologize. It is the strength of your brotherhood that has inspired me."

Malik raised an eyebrow.

"See?" Ghafur said, patting Malik's shoulder. "I told you that he could be reasoned with."

"Legends of your men have spread even far to the East, although I think that some of it may be false. The traders are known for gossip."

Malik let a small smile slip. "I am pleased, then, that you are willing to see us and talk."

"Show me your proof. I cannot be away too long."

"How long have you been gone?"

"Two and a half months."

Malik turned to Hakim, who showed them out and into the dungeon, the two novices there the first time there again. He could hear a soft moaning the farther into the dungeon they when, until Hakim stopped them and lit a torch. Malik had to admit he liked Genghis' presence.

After a bit more walking, they arrived at Altair's cell, and Malik stepped back a pace. Altair was hunched in the corner, gripping his head and hissing in a foreign language to himself, rocking. His clothes were dirty and ripped, and he could see claw marks along his cheeks.

"He looks like every other madman," Genghis said.

Malik held his hand out as Altair took notice of them, hissing. Genghis looked at him.

"The treasure."

Genghis slowly took it out of the pouch at his hands, going to put it in Malik's hand.

"The Apple!" Altair screeched, and both men jumped when he hurled himself against the bars. "The Apple!"

His bony hand reach through the bars, and Genghis pulled back.

"Let me see the Apple! There is still much to learn! The flames that I saw—what are they? My blade," he gave a deep groan, and Malik shuddered. "Give me my Apple!"

He threw himself against the bars again, snarling and reaching.

"Listen to its whispers! It commands you!"

Malik had never been more afraid of Altair's eyes in all his life. He licked his lips and turned to Ghafur. "Go fetch Maria. I think it is time we show her just what is happening."

Ghafur shouted to the novices, and after several minutes—Malik and Genghis were petrified watching Altair—Maria came down.

"Leave your children behind, Maria. This is not for them to see."

"You think I'm stupid enough to let them into a dungeon? Malik, I thought you were smarter than that!"

She came padding over. "Now what is it… My God! Altair?"

Altair gave a low moan, like that of a mad denied his drug. He sank to his knees, his eyes wide as he reached toward her. She looked horrified, standing just out of his range.

"Maria, please. Let me out. Give me the Apple."

She glanced at the thing in Genghis' hands. "What is this? This is not Altair!"

"This is Altair," Malik whispered, "denied the Apple—"

"This cannot be."

"This is."

They watched in silence as he groaned and reached, clawing at his head and for the Apple.

"I am going. This is madness."

"Maria!" Altair shouted. "No, don't go—"

"I cannot let my children grow around… this!" Malik looked at her, and she met his gaze. "I am sorry, Malik, for leaving so abruptly, but I do not want to stay here while he is under the influence of… whatever that is."

Malik nodded once.

"If he cleans himself up, he can contact me if he wishes to get remarried. This is dangerous. I will not have my children living around such a vile object," she spat, gesturing at the Apple. "And if he should find a way out, he will no doubt terrorize his children."

"Where will you go?" Ghafur asked.

"I will go to Italy. I have friends there, both Templars and assassins. They will provide me room… away from this madman. I cannot believe this is what I'm married to. I was blind before to not see how it was tearing us apart."

Malik placed his hand on her shoulder, and she looked at him again. "I am sorry, Malik, for such a hasty decision, but I fear—"

"We all fear, Maria. Those who know, fear much. At least keep in touch with us."

Maria nodded. "I will tell the boys we have been relocated with Temüjin's threat to the east."

Malik nodded, feeling a sense of guilt for forcing her out of Masyaf. However, this was not the Altair they once had, and raising children around him would, indeed, prove dangerous. The two hugged, and Genghis pushed the Apple into Malik's hand.

"Take it—I do not want it. I will find Jamuka's betrayers myself."

Malik popped the Apple up on one finger and spun it. Altair gave another groan.

"Don't leave me, Maria."

She backed off a step, and when the Grand Master saw she was serious about leaving, he snarled and flung himself against the bars, a raging, spitting mess. Genghis watched, horrified.

"And this is what will happen to me?"

"Yes." Hakim said flatly.

"Take it. Take your cursed piece of Hell and leave me away from it. I will return to my men. We will struggle together. This does not belong in the hands of man."

Malik nodded gravely. "Come, let us leave him."

They practically ran from the dungeons, listening to Altair's bone-chilling screeches and wails. Genghis was quick to leave with a parting of "Safety and peace." An alliance was formed, and he left them with many gifts of thanks for taking the Apple. When they had left, Malik found himself pacing in the garden, Ghafur sitting against the wall, and Hakim leaning against a rail, eating an apple.

"This is what you wanted, yes?" Ghafur asked.

Malik turned to look at him. "Yes, but to think that it all happened so quickly is beyond me."

He looked at the new Apple in his hand. It whispered of power and knowledge, and Malik scowled. It quickly changed its tune to promises of soothing his worry.

"Where will you hide this one?" Hakim asked.

Malik was silent. "I do not know."

"Maria has left, Genghis has given you the Apple—"

Malik snarled and threw it as hard as he could against the wall, getting a sick satisfaction from watching it dent. "This thing is as far from sweet as it could get!" He kicked it. "This—not Altair!—has been the cause of all of my grief, and still it whispers promises of everything!"

Hakim was smiling softly. "It is good that it has caused you such grief."

Malik turned, snarling, his dagger drawn. "What do you mean by that?"

"At least one of us is immune to its effects," he murmured. "To tell the truth, brother, Ghafur and I were tempted to steal the Apple. To know that you can resist gives us strength."

Malik's brow knitted.

"And as much as we regret all that has happened to you," Hakim began.

"It is by your resistance we are still together."

Malik scowled, putting his dagger away and stuffing the Apple in a pouch.

"He's blushing!" Ghafur bellowed, guffawing.

He turned away.

Maria left without much of a goodbye, and her kids, at least, seemed eager to travel, alienated from their father by the Apple.

"Promise me you will get rid of it, Malik."

He hugged her. "So long as you stay in contact with me."

She nodded in the embrace. "Safety and peace."

"Upon you as well."

She laughed as she pulled away and mounted the horse. "You will need it more."

He found himself smiling as she watched her go off. The days were long as he continued to rule with Hakim and Ghafur, and nights were longer as they would sit in the edge of the garden and discuss what to do with the Apple.

It wasn't until many days later that one of the novices guarding the dungeon came running to get him. He was showing the other novices how to properly wield a sword.

"Master Malik!"

He turned to the boy, holding his hand up to stop the fight.

"It's… It's… He needs to see you."

Malik's brow knitted together, and he followed the boy, who lit a torch and took him into the heart of the dungeons.

"What is the meaning of this, Malik? Some sort of sick joke?"

His lips quirked into a smile when he saw Altair glaring at him, his old, fierce stare boring into him. "You have returned to us."

"Return—what? Do not toy with me."

"Let him out. There is much we need to discuss."

"What do you mean?"

The novice let him out, and Malik held his hand out, a teasing smile upon his face. "Maria and your children, and us."

His brows knitted together. "I do not recall such things."

They walked, hand-in-hand, up to his office. Altair nodded at each of the men who acknowledged his return from the east, wisely not saying anything until they were in private.

"Now, tell me what is going on."

"Do you even remember Maria?"

"Yes."

"We'll start there, then."

Malik talked well into the night with him, relaying everything that had happened. Altair sat silently, listening with a frown upon his face. When he was done, he scowled.

"I suppose I should send a letter to Maria and explain what happened."

Malik nodded. "It may be wise. And bathe. You smell like the stables when the novices forget to muck them."

A smile quirked at the Grand Master's lips. "And despite all the grief I have caused you, you still soldier on with me."

Malik scoffed. "It is not you who causes me grief. You are merely the bringer. This," he pulled out Genghis' Apple and tossed it to him, "is the true cause of all of my guilt."

"You give it back to me?"

"You become stronger and wiser with each encounter. I trust you can handle yourself."

He rose and started for the door, only to find himself pinned against it, a teasing nip on his ear. "I am not so sure, Malik. I am never able to control myself around you."

Malik scoffed, trying to hide the utter relief and happiness. "If you think I will bed you while you smell so terrible, you are mistaken."

He opened the door, ducking, and laughed as Altair fell. He placed his foot on the Grand Master's chest. Several assassins were watching. "And when you are done scrubbing the grime from your skin, join me and my brothers out in the gardens. Genghis has left you fine silk clothing."

Altair wrapped his hands around Malik's ankle, and he frowned. "My strength has left me."

"You were in the dungeon for over three months."

Altair scowled. "Now how will I beat you."

Malik smirked and pulled his foot loose. As he headed for the garden, he said over his shoulder, "Simple. You won't."


End file.
